


Before I Am Anyone's

by SharpestScalpel



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Facial, M/M, Power Play, mild d/s dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-30
Updated: 2011-10-29
Packaged: 2017-10-25 02:03:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/270513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SharpestScalpel/pseuds/SharpestScalpel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik needs something. Charles knows exactly what to give him, exactly how to reward Erik's trust.</p><p>Facial as expression of love.</p><p>(Now with bonus troll fill at the bottom.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> From a kink meme prompt:
> 
> http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/5215.html?thread=6616671#t6616671
> 
>  _I've read a few fills where Erik cums all over Charles' face but I've never read one where its the other way around. I'd like Charles to be a little dominant and for Erik to really enjoy it._

The metal in the room was vibrating, molecules excited almost past their endurance. Even Charles, with no special sensitivity to metal though he had more reason than most to turn his attention to it, could sense the energy in the master bedroom of the Westchester mansion.

Erik knelt on the bedroom floor, all naked skin and spare flesh: angles, planes, and shadows. His breathing was steady, but for the odd hitch that gave away more than anything how desperately the man was clinging to his sense of control. Erk didn't like to feel powerless - quite reasonably, Charles thought. It would have, for the greater part of Erik's existence, meant his life to give up control to the wrong person.

When he'd asked Charles for this, mentioned it so casually as though Charles couldn't sense Erik's unease even without reading his mind.... It had felt more like a decision than an impulse, a thing Erik thought he ought to offer, perhaps to convince himself, rather than a thing he really wanted. Charles had questioned it, had not been able to do otherwise. Erik had looked away. "I would like you to do this thing." And what could a person say to that, what could Charles say to that? Erik had never even learned how to want it.

Charles circled again, trailed his fingers across the breadth of Erik's tense shoulders, the muscles cleaning and releasing under the pressure. "You're doing such a very good job of this, Erik."

He'd considered his options. No pain - Erik had suffered enough pain at the hands of others. Charles wanted no part of reminding him what it meant to be helpless in another person's hands in that fashion. But at the same, to take Erik apart with pleasure put the man at the focus of Charles's attention in a way that ran counter to what Erik needed. What Erik needed... Erik needed to know that he had made the right decision, that he could, in fact, trust in the choice he'd made to remain with Charles. To know that Charles, given the opportunity, would not hurt him as so many others had done.

It was a heady position in which to find himself. Charles had felt drunk with it when he realized the implications of it, the depth of Erik's feeling even as Charles left the other man the privacy of his mind. And then he had gotten hard, in a rush of arousal that had bowled him over.

Charles had planned, had chosen his moment. And it had brought him to this place, with Erik waiting for whatever Charles wanted to give him. Charles circled him again, stopped behind the other man to remove his own clothes. He'd considered staying dressed, had not been comfortable with what it had implied.

He was half-hard already, anticipation and the way Erik had gone so willingly to his knees enough to deepen the heavy pulse of his blood.

"Close your eyes for me, Erik." Charles kept his voice light, calm, soothing. The increased rate of Erik's raspy breathing was enough evidence that Erik had complied. "You're so lovely like this, my friend."

Erik's lips parted but he made no sound; Charles thought another man might have allowed a small noise of desperation, of want, of impatience to escape. But not Erik - his Erik. If this meant anything at all, it meant that Erik belonged to Charles. The thought curved Charles's red mouth into a generous smile. He leaned down, approached slowly enough that Erik could feel him, know his intent, before he kissed Erik's hard mouth, the soft lips incongruous in a man who had abstained from so many luxuries.

Charles liked luxury, wanted to share a bit of it.

"You're going to suck my cock now, take your time with it." Charles straightened up, crowded closer until his cock nudged at Erik's cheek. "You won't touch yourself, will you?"

The tender skin of Erik's eyelids flinched as though he had been able to open his eyes; instead, Erik shook his head slightly.

"That's a good man." Charles reached, ran the fingers of one hand from Erik's ear, across the strong line of his jaw, to find a grip on Erik's chin. "Open up for me, more, just like that."

They'd done this as equals - were equals still in Charles's mind. But knowing the heat of Erik's mouth and the mobile curl of his tongue did not detract from the shocking pleasure of it. Charles grunted, shoved himself deeper without warning. Erik sucked in a deep breath, nostrils flaring, but made no objection. The man widened his knees, settled his stance and moved his hands, slowly, up to Charles's thighs in question: could he touch?

"Not right now, Erik." Charles saw the line between Erik's eyebrows, read the slight distress on his lover's face. "Later, I promise. Just let me do this now, I want it."

Of course he wanted Erik's mouth. But Charles also wanted the intoxicating reality of Erik Lensherr allowing Charles whatever he wanted, trusting that Charles would ask for nothing he was not prepared - or even eager - to give. All his reasoning receded, though, under pressure and friction. Charles thrust, shallow and then more deeply, found a rhythm that made him clutch at Erik's hair for long minutes.

The restrained creak of the wrought iron headboard, the obscene wet slide of his cock, the increasingly desperate and harsh panting of his own quick inhalations - the room was full of small sounds that Charles reveled in. He knew his own body, knew what would send him winding tightly, spiraling higher; he pursued it, chased his climax until it was hovering just beyond the fingertips he was skating over the tips of Erik's ears.

And then Charles pulled back, wrenched himself away from the precipice of it. Erik did make a noise at that, a shocked sound of displeasure, of unfulfilled greed. It was confirmation, assurance that Charles could use Erik for his own pleasure and it would please Erik as well. Charles left one hand where it was, holding Erik's head steady, and stroked his cock with the other, fingers rubbing under the glans, circling the shaft, prodding at nerves that were already strung like well-tensioned wire.

He came in several long pulses, viscous streaks across Erik's cheeks and lips. Charles shuddered from it, locked his knees so he wouldn't fall. He had closed his eyes, when? Charles pried them open to see the slow drip of semen from Erik's chin.

"Oh, my friend. Perfection." Erik trembled, slight enough that Charles felt it through the hand on Erik's head as much as he saw it through the quiver of Erik's shoulders. "Open your eyes for me."

Red-rimmed and watery, Erik's eyes glistened with his own arousal - but also with worry. Charles smiled, as reassuring as he knew how without using his telepathy to back it up. Maybe one day Erik would invite him in; maybe one day Erik would believe Charles when he told the man there was nothing in Erik that would scare him away.

"Get on the bed for me, darling, so I can return the favor." Charles would meet each calculated risk that Erik could bring himself to take. Until Erik realized as thoroughly as Charles already knew: they belonged to each other.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BONUS TROLL FILL

"Honestly, Charles. If you aren't going to take this seriously, you can leave." Erik sounded as stern as any headmaster Charles had ever had at school.

It was kind of pleasant in a thinking-about-improper-things-that-might-get-him-spanked way. And yet. Charles had never seen Erik so relaxed.

"It's just the cucumbers are rather silly, aren't they?" Erik couldn't see his earnest expression so Charles projected it as much as he thought he could get away with.

Erik, reclining in a white terry cloth robe on the chaise in Charles's room, did not deign to respond with so much as a raised eyebrow. "The cucumbers reduce swelling. It's your skin, Charles." Erik's face was slathered with a thick white cream. He looked rather like a strange living dessert, Charles thought. "It's not my fault you don't hydrate properly."

Charles sighed, dipped his fingers into the moisturizing cream. He supposed Erik had a point; he really could drink more water.


End file.
